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Fertile Soil
The journey of mourning a lost child. Chapter 1
In the beginning there was joy. The whole world was at our feet and the future was like one of those wonderful mornings: Full of confidence.
We do not need to count the years we have lived together, the years we have grown together in joy and sorrow. We simply know that they were precious, irreplaceable years. The myriad of experiences became memories and experiences. Every moment, whether beautiful or sad, whether joyful or thoughtful, became a flower, a blade of grass in our lives.
Thus a meadow of togetherness was created — full of vitality, full of will and potential to make life blossom. Some of the memories have already become stardust again, and form the nutrient, the basic substance to enable new experiences to have an existence.
You cannot conjure up fertile soil, you cannot manufacture it. It has to grow. And we have let it grow all our lives. We have not pulled out any weeds, we have not negated any plants. We have nurtured the soil and fertilized it with ever-growing love. And this spring, the soil seemed ripe and strong enough to be a home for a whole new plant.
